


Crystallize

by CloudAtlas



Series: All Hallows Eve 2014, Be_Compromised Style [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dancing, Dancing with the stars - Freeform, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAtlas/pseuds/CloudAtlas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars. She's paired with archery Olympic gold medallist Clint Barton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystallize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crazy4Orcas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy4Orcas/gifts).



> This takes place in a 'verse, that only exists in my head, where Natasha is a dancer on Dancing with the Stars and Clint is the Olympic gold medallist paired with her. The whole thing exists in my head for the dance mentioned here, which would have them dancing to [Crystallize by Lindsey Stirling](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mb2QoaBy8ao), dancing in the slower bits and fighting when the beat kicks in.

“I have an idea,” Natasha says, watching Clint stretch on the barre, cooling down after their session.

“Music ideas? Because I have music ideas.”

He can do the splits. It’s pretty impressive for an archer. Or a teacher. Whichever he’s going with today.

“No, not music ideas. Well, sort of, but not really. You can do judo right?”

Clint turns to look at her. “Yeah? Well, mixed martial arts. So, sort of. Why?”

Natasha purses her lips, thinking, and she takes just long enough for Clint to start stretching again.

“Did you learn to do the splits doing MMA?” she asks, even though that wasn’t really what she was planning on saying.

Clint laughs. “No,” he says, without elaborating. “What’s your not-music idea?”

“Fighting.” She’s been thinking about it a lot recently. Live TV is probably not the place to try it out, but she might never get the chance again, so. Carpe diem.

Clint actually stops now, turning to face her with an incredulous expression. “What?”

“Fighting. You know, how fighting can be a dance. So I’ve always wanted to try something where fighting and dancing sort of… meld. I’ve mentioned it to Steve, but he’s taller and generally… _bigger_ than me. And he has no formal fight training. He’s never wanted to try because he’s afraid he’d hurt me. But… you have fight training, you’re closer to my size.” 

She shrugs slightly, the ‘I trust you’ getting caught in her throat. “You’re good,” she says instead. “I think it could work.”

Clint just stares at her. In the mirror behind him she can see herself looking both excited and unsure, sweat staining her top and sticking her hair to her forehead. She can also see his ass. It’s a nice ass.

“It would be our freestyle,” she says.

“You’re assuming I’ll get to the freestyle round.”

“You’ll get to the freestyle round. You’ll get to the final.”

“You have a great deal of confidence in your teaching ability.”

“I have a great deal of confidence in your learning capacity.”

Clint doesn’t reply to that.

“Never mind,” Natasha says eventually. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. You can do the splits. I’m sure there’s more athletic ability we can eke out of you for some acrobatic freestyle.”

Clint snorts, his eyes suddenly locking with hers. “I can do more than just the splits.”

And there it is again, that ridiculous tension. Natasha can’t work out what he means by that, and she can’t look away.

“What?” she says quietly.

Clint shrugs, breaking eye contact. “I was in the circus. I can do everything.”

“What?” she says again, stronger this time.

Clint lifts up his hand, counting off on his fingers. “Orphan, circus, Army, college, archery, teaching, Olympics,” he waves his hand around, to encompass the dance studio they’re currently in, “Dancing with the Stars.” 

His fingers curl around ‘stars’, derision colouring his tone. He doesn’t consider himself a celebrity.

He grins up at her suddenly and _oh_ , there’s something dangerous here.

“So, fighting? I can do fighting. You want me to fight you?”

Natasha’s face splits into a grin. Dancing should always, always feel like this; right on the edge.

“Yeah,” she says.

“You got music?”

“Yeah,” she says again, and she can feel electricity sparking along her skin. He’s electric, and sometimes she feels _so alive_.

“Bring it,” he says.


End file.
